


Call Me Closer

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Alternate Universe - Dark, Bloodplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Mirror Universe, orgasm denial/control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-14
Updated: 2009-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's this game McCoy and Kirk play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/8627.html?thread=25402291) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/profile)[**st_xi_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/)

"If you move, I'll cut off your goddamn legs," McCoy says when Jim wakes to the flat feel of a blade sliding across his thigh.

Jim freezes because one, he's not entirely sure that the doctor is joking and a man like McCoy doesn't get a nickname like Bones for nothing (even though Jim is the only person in the Empire who probably has the balls to say it to McCoy's face) and two, it's not as if he can move when his wrists and ankles are strapped to the bed.

Jim, momentarily defeated by McCoy's fucking hyposprays. Again. Fuck.

"Nod if you understand me," McCoy says, the flat of the blade now skimming up the inside of Jim's thigh.

Antagonizing men with knives is generally a bad idea, so Jim tries not to laugh. But it's also just too much fucking fun, and there is _no way_ he's going to ever make this easy for McCoy. "Or I could just say I understand, and we can move on."

The smile on Jim's face becomes more of a grimace when McCoy presses the tip of the blade to Jim's crotch--which is so wrong on so many levels-- but Jim's heart jumps and his cock starts filling out, and that's worse.

He watches McCoy's mouth lift in a darkly satisfied smile, and Jim is going to get him back for this. He's plotting all the ways he's going to tie McCoy down and make the doctor his fucking bitch for this for _days_.

Not today, though, not when McCoy is slicing off Jim's pants, and Jim can feel the blade sliding so close to his skin that he has to glance down to see if he's bleeding. Nope. The doctor knows exactly what he's doing, of course -- ripping off Jim's clothes until Jim is stubbornly repressing a shudder when he's naked because the doctor's room is practically freezing but not so cold that Jim's cock (which, if he didn't like it so much, would cut off for being a damn traitor) flags in the least.

"I'm going to make you regret this," Jim says between clenched teeth as he tugs at his bindings to see if maybe he can work loose one of his wrists.

McCoy taps the blade against Jim's erection, and Jim freezes. "If you feel that way, Jim, then maybe I should just leave you here." McCoy's lips twist into a smile, an 'I just came up with a great idea' or the 'I'm about to eviscerate you' smile. They were both pretty close, so it was hard to tell. "Maybe I can get the other crewmen, start a line, let everyone get a chance at fucking you wide open."

Jim smirks. "That threat would work if I knew you wouldn't follow through." Jim relaxes every muscle in his body, rolls his hips -- carefully, carefully -- just enough to get McCoy's attention back on his cock. Works like a charm every time. "It would suck for you if I was too loose to take _your_ cock, now wouldn't it, Bones?"

Jesus fucking--Jim stills when McCoy turns the blade so the tip is against the oh-so-sensitive skin of his shaft. Maybe calling the doc Bones was a bad idea so soon. Maybe he should have waited until the doctor's dick was in his ass first, but McCoy's not going to do anything that hasty or that stupid. So after the immediate reaction of _oh shit_, Jim shoots McCoy a daring look and relaxes.

"You're a cocky son of a bitch," McCoy says, but he's sliding the blade higher, more importantly, _away_ from Jim's cock and up toward Jim's navel.

"Wouldn't be any fun if I laid here and took it," Jim says. "I am going to get you back for this, though." Jim sucks in a breath when the point of the blade presses harder over his ribs, and he watches a thin line of blood bead up from his skin. He glares at McCoy.

McCoy drags the blade higher, making another thin incision below Jim's nipple. "Wouldn't expect anything less from the Empire's favorite son."

"Sweet talk isn't going to save you," Jim says, stubbornly repressing a shudder when McCoy rubs his thumb against the cut, smearing blood over Jim's nipple as he twists it between forefinger and thumb. Jim clamps his jaw shut against the cry ready to spill out of his throat from the fierce pinch of McCoy's fingers, but he can't hold back the next shiver when McCoy drags the tip of the blade up Jim's sternum and poises it at the hollow of Jim's throat.

"And nothing's going to save you if I decide I'm tired of that smart mouth of yours."

Jim concedes the shiver, but he's not letting go of his smirk. "Already?" Jim asks. He watches McCoy through heavy-lidded eyes, and the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I haven't even gotten my mouth around your cock yet."

The blade glides across Jim's collarbone. "You were making threats earlier. I'm not sure I can trust it in your mouth."

Jim hisses in a breath, his eyes squeezing shut when the knife cuts into the skin at his shoulder. It makes his cock twitch, and he doesn't have to open his eyes to know that McCoy knows exactly what he's doing -- trying to get in the last word.

"Probably not," Jim says, "but that's part of the thrill, isn't it?"

McCoy smiles and makes another short, clean slice down Jim's arm that makes Jim blow out a breath. "How bad do you want it?"

"C'mon, Bones. You know me better than that. Why beg when I can have it any time I want?"

Jim's smirk doesn't waver when McCoy presses the knife to his cheek. "I'm thinkin' I might gag you next time."

"Mmm, sounds like fun."

Then Jim turns his head, holding McCoy's gaze as he slowly runs his tongue up the flat of the blade. Bingo. McCoy's teeth cut into Jim's bottom lip when their lips crash together, but Jim moans, thrusting his tongue into McCoy's mouth, his arms straining against his bonds, wanting to touch.

He makes a frustrated sound low in his throat and takes that frustration out on McCoy's mouth, drawing McCoy's bottom lip into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth, biting hard, harder until McCoy warns him off by tucking the blade under Jim's chin.

"Watch it, kid." McCoy adds pressure, and Jim can feel thin rivulets of his blood sliding down to the bed. "The Empire won't miss a fuck up."

"I thought I was the favorite son?"

"Depends on who you talk to." McCoy nicks Jim's skin, closer to his jaw, before he eases away.

A tingling rush of sensation spreads through Jim's skin followed by the prickle of the blood sliding down his neck. "There's a little too much talking right now."

Jim knows that he probably shouldn't goad McCoy, not with all the stories -- some rumored, most true -- about Bones and how he earned the position of Chief Medical Officer, who he was _before_ he signed on, but there's a thrill in that, too.

"Fuck!" Jim's body automatically tries to scramble back when McCoy shoves a blunt finger into him, slick only with some of Jim's blood. "I'm going to kill you, McCoy. Slow and--"

"There's that sweet talk you're known for," McCoy drawls, and Jim grunts from the burn of McCoy stretching him with a second finger. "Might've been more charitable if you hadn't decided to mouth off so goddamn much."

Jim shakes, sweat dotting his forehead, and he takes slow, steady breaths that stutter in his throat when McCoy's fingers brush the swell of his prostate. Jim's hips buck up, and McCoy laughs, a husky, pleased sound that makes Jim bite off another moan, stubbornly locking it behind the thin line of his lips.

"So you _can_ learn, kid," McCoy says and pushes in a third finger that forces Jim to close his eyes and breathe.

"Got a few lessons for you, too, Bones." Jim opens his eyes and fixes McCoy with a look filled with promise. Let the bastard interpret it however he wants.

McCoy smiles, a slow curl of his lips that has Jim bracing himself for whatever's coming next. Jim looks down his body when he feels McCoy adjusting the straps at his ankles, repositioning Jim's legs so they're angled up. During all of this, McCoy never drops the knife and never moves it away from Jim's skin. As he's shifting Jim's legs, he drags the tip up Jim's inner thigh, and Jim has to suppress a shiver so the blade doesn't cut any deeper than what the doctor allows. Jim is so focused on the slow slide of the blade that he's not prepared for McCoy's cock, moderately slick at least, burying balls deep in his ass.

Jim cuts off a moan, his fingernails biting into his palms, jaw clamped shut until his teeth grind together. He's going to kill McCoy for this, string him up and make him scream until his voice is raw and then he's going to make McCoy suck his cock and--

"Ever the golden boy," McCoy says with another hard thrust. "Plotting even when he's lost."

"I never lose." The last word, unfortunately, ends a little breathlessly, but Jim doesn't care right now.

Pleasure tightens in Jim's gut with each forceful push of McCoy's hips, and then McCoy is running the flat of the blade up Jim's torso, tapping it against Jim's ribs, making another slow incision that makes Jim moan. The pain sends electric jolts of pleasure skittering across Jim's skin, his heart racing from the rush, and all that blood pumping straight to his cock.

"You like that, Jim?" McCoy whispers at his ear. "Getting fucked like this?" McCoy straightens and drives deeper. Jim grunts from the abrupt change in angle, and he's straining against his bonds again, his nails digging into his own skin just so he can hold on to something. "How would the admiralty feel?" Followed by another thrust. "That the captain of the Empire's flagship takes it like a fucking whore?"

Jim wants to reach up and jam the fucking knife between McCoy's ribs. "I don't know, Bones." Jim chokes back a moan and swallows it down as his muscles begin to quiver, heat flushing his skin. "Maybe they'd bend me over the command chair." Jim stares up into McCoy's face as he clenches his muscles, forcing a throaty moan from McCoy's mouth. "Maybe they'd let you watch."

Before the last letters leave Jim's lips, McCoy finally stops wasting Jim's time and fucks him hard and fast, setting a brutal pace that makes Jim squeeze his eyes shut and ride the pleasure that sparks along his nerves with each thrust, his legs straining to wrap around McCoy's waist and push him deeper, faster, harder.

When McCoy comes, he buries a moan against Jim's neck, shoves in once, twice, a fine tremble running up his body as he spends himself, crushing Jim's aching cock between their bodies. Jim needs, one more thrust, a few quick jerks, _something_, but when McCoy sits up, Jim knows the fucking bastard is going to leave him like this, trapped in this tight knot of pleasure.

"Bones," Jim growls, rolling his hips, trying to get the friction he needs.

McCoy slides out, and Jim is struggling against the straps in earnest now as he watches McCoy wipe his dick clean before tucking himself back in his pants. "Maybe next time, Jim, you'll learn to shut the hell up."


End file.
